


Idyll

by xel



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4840433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xel/pseuds/xel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Izuru's voice is yellow and blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idyll

Izuru's voice is yellow and blue, like hot flames or flowers, and Rose often listens to the fukutaichou talk as the bursts of colors come to life before him. Izuru is literal art. Every movement, every sound, every bite and quip comes off him like some flowing liquid taking shape, endeavoring to make the world a little more beautiful. Izuru, himself, the essence, is hideously self-destructive and void - a hollow vessel, life seeping out like sand through cupped hands. What an interesting contradiction to mold itself into one entity. A true muse, something worth erecting statues of or ballads to. Something to worship. Yellow. Blue. The sea and the sky. Dangerous, foreign things floating in depths so deep compression kills, but there is light, somewhere above. Waiting.

"Is there something you need, taichou?" Asks Izuru, he sets his quill down and stares at Rose with dead eyes the air around them vibrates with color, it's like a painting Rose can see but can't quite capture. He often does this, looks too long trying to hold the moment and Izuru has noticed and Izuru is not amused but he deals with it because he's not comfortable enough, just yet, to tell Rose exactly what's on his mind (something snarky, maybe, something unabashedly cruel.)

Rose plucks a string on his guitar and it is orange. 

"Taichou?" Yellow. Rose plays another note and it is red. Red, yellow, orange. He'll call it Sunsets. He'll call it Izuru. 

Izuru sighs, returns to his work and begins again. The sign is blue the scratch of quill on paper is purple and the scene is coming together. Blue purple - the sea. Orange, red, yellow - the sky. And Izuru is the angler fish, enticing and mean and Rose is the artist. The music comes easy and flows between them in waves of sound and color and the scratch of the quill and the light breathing of Izuru which is just loud enough to come out royal-colored. Rose won't close his eyes, won't miss a single moment of the melding noises. He's looking hard at Izuru.

"Taichou," says Izuru, again. Yellow.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have Synesthesia, and I don't know of anyone with it either. But when I was about 10 I read a book called "A Mango Shaped Space" and I don't know why I was thinking about it the other day, but I was. I imagine it's concevably possible that Rose could be synesthetes, and that it would drive him to always want to be around Izuru. Or I don't know? I've never actually written Rose with any conviction. I just kind of imagine him as someone a little more subtly obsessed with beauty than Yumichika is. Sorry for any out of character-ness!


End file.
